


Third Time's A Charm

by Bixels



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Awkward Flirting, F/F, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Lesbian Disaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-05-13 14:57:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bixels/pseuds/Bixels
Summary: Three and Eight go on their first date.





	1. Prologue

Today was the big day. After two months of awkward staring, stifled flirting, and yearnful daydreaming, Three and Eight were finally going on their first date! Eight could hardly wait; her three little hearts were beating like a hummingbird. 

 

Three, on the other hand, was not as optimistic. Don’t get her wrong, she was excited! But… maybe too excited. The growing anxiety in her gut was overpowering her joy. This needed to be perfect. Eight deserves a perfect first date. Plus, Three already screwed up with asking her out, so she can’t screw up again.

 

* * *

 

**Two Days Earlier…**

 

It’d taken two entire weeks of build up to get to this moment, a string of close-calls and false alarms, and a series of encouraging and motivating advice from nearly everyone she knew: Callie, Marie, Four; even Cap’n chimed in, though he was a little confused on what was going on. But Three was finally gonna do it. No more excuses and bathroom breaks and fake phone calls. This is it!

 

“So… Ei–”

 

“Hold that thought, Four’s calling me.” Eight tapped her buzzing phone’s screen and held it up to her ear. “Hey! What’s up?”

 

Three’s tight expression fell. Of course it had to be that little gremlin to ruin it. She immediately whipped out her own phone and angrily texted Four, _“hang the fuck up right now. im actually doing it”_

 

_“o shit ok,”_ followed.

 

“Yeah, totally!” Eight chirped into the receiver, oblivious to the matter at hand, “What’s that? … Oh, ok! I’ll talk to you later then!”

 

Three cleared her throat and mumbled, “S-so as I was… as I was… as–”

 

The doorbell rudely interrupted Three, and Eight bounced from the couch to answer it. “Three, pizza’s here!” she called.

 

Three was too busy holding back a scream and giving the pizza-delivery-guy the evil eye to respond.

 

Eight set the box onto the dining table and immediately began to dig in.

 

“Awh, they forgot the garlic dip. You wanna slice, Th–”

 

“YOU WANNA GO ON A DATE?”

 

Three covered her mouth when she realized how absolutely batshit manic she sounded. “With me. Do… D-do you wanna go on a date... with me?” she sputtered, as if a second attempt would save her.

 

Eight looked up at Three, cheeks stuffed with cheesy pepperoni pizza. “What’s a date?”

 

The poor Inkling wanted to turn into a puddle of goo and let herself seep into the floorboards. Not only did she have to ask Eight out, but she also had to  _ explain _ to Eight what she was asking!?

 

“I-it’s like… when two people go out and just… hang out? Get to know each other… Have fun?” To be completely honest, Three didn’t know what a date was really either.

 

“Don’t we already do that, silly?”

 

That’s… very true. “But this is more important because it’s, like... romantic?” Three smiled nervously, sweat beading on her forehead.

 

“Romantic…” Eight swallowed her bite. Then, slowly but surely, her face flushed with pink, reaching from her cheeks to her ears, as all the memories of sappy soap operas and rom-coms on TV flooded her brain, allowing her to connect the dots. Movie theaters, fine dining, beach walks, hand holding, and at the end of the day… Kissing! Eight nearly swooned at the very idea of kissing Three. Not that she thought about it a lot... Not that she once practiced kissing on her pillow with her roommate in mind… … …  

 

“Eight. Eight... Eight!” Three snapped her fingers in front of her friend’s face, but no reaction. “Shit, I think I broke h–”

 

“YES!” Eight slapped her hand against her lips when she realized how awfully loud she was. “Yes, yeah, sure!”

 

The nervous smile returned to Three. “Cool. Cool-cool-cool-cool-cool. Cool beans...”  And with that, the Inkling began to make her way down the hallway and slink away to her room.

 

“Wait, when? And where?”

 

Three froze. Crap, she was so focused on popping the question that she completely forgot about the details. “I’ll, uh… let you know later.” And the door slammed shut behind her.

 

The two stood there in silence for a moment, separated by a thin wooden door. And while Eight whooped and laughed and frantically texted Marina and Pearl about what just happened, Three collapsed on her bed and bit back the urge to scream into her pillow, thoroughly humiliated by how disastrous that was.

 

Her phone buzzed: _“so howd it go?”_

  
  



	2. Let's Go!

Three didn’t have much in terms of “date-night” clothes. The best she could scrounge together was a beaten up baseball cap, a hoodie over a tank-top, and her cleanest pair of jeans. 

 

“Eight, you ready to go?” Three called, leaning against the bathroom door.

 

“Almost!” came a voice from behind the door. The most awkward part about dating your roommate was having to wait for them to get ready.

 

“It’s been ‘almost’ for fifteen minutes.”

 

“Well, you know what Callie always says: you can’t rush beauty.”

 

Three gave a disdainful snort. “I hope you’re not being influenced by her.”   
  


The door opened and Three pushed herself back to her feet to face her date.

 

“Well, how do I look?” Eight gingerly patted at her tentacles, which were a much richer hue than usual. There she stood in a yellow and white sundress, with a sea-shell necklace around her neck. She even managed to put on a little make-up, no doubt something she’d picked up from Pearl and Marina.

 

Three suddenly felt underdressed. “Y-yeah, you look good,” she choked out, silently cursing herself for that horrible voice crack.

 

“Great! Let’s go!” Eight marched down the hallway and right out the front door, leaving Three to pick her jaw off the floor and catch up.

 

* * *

 

The subway ride was relatively quiet. Bright golden rectangles whizzed by the rumbling walls as the late-afternoon sun shone through the windows. The rush-hour commuters were packed like sardines into the train. Luckily, the pair found seats for themselves. As usual, Eight sat close to Three, occasionally peering out the window behind her to catch a glimpse at the city racing by.

 

_ You should say something, you should say something, you should say something _ , chanted Three’s brain. But there was nothing to talk about. Suddenly, the train entered a tunnel, whisking away the beautiful golden and blue hues and basking the car with darkness. Cold fluorescents flickered on.

 

Eight’s hand immediately darted to reach for Three’s. Three, who was already used to this reaction, met her halfway. The Octoling had gotten better with subways; when she first arrived, she could barely even step foot in one. But even now, the underground was too familiar.

 

“It’s ok, I’m here,” Three whispered, barely audible against the clickity-clack of the tracks, as she rubbed her thumb along Eight’s hand.

 

But before Eight could respond, a sudden jump and veer in the tracks sent her careening into Three, one hand gripping at her shoulder to stop them from colliding as she nearly bounced into her lap.

 

The two realized how close they were, their faces inches apart from each other. A few adults surrounding the pair glanced at the disturbance with grumpy grumbles and judgemental looks. A couple showing PDA in such a public space? An Inkling-Octoling couple no less. Despite Octolings being fully integrated into Inkling society, romance with what was once their mortal enemies wasn’t held in high regard among the older Inklings.

 

Three and Eight blushed and pushed away from each other, their hands reluctantly parting ways, eager to get the feeling of watching eyes off their backs.

 

“This is our stop,” Three finally spoke up, rising to her feet.

 

A little jingle played. “Now arriving at  _ Barnacle Boardwalk. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a shorter chapter.


	3. Barnacle Boardwalk

“WOW!” was the first word to come out of Eight’s mouth when she reached the station’s exit. Across the street was an enormous boardwalk. Food stands and game booths lined the rows and rows of neat paths with striped carnies flamboyantly shouting at passerbyers to “step right up, step right up, take your best shot!” A rollercoaster zoomed up and down hills and bends near the edge, carrying screams of terror and glee as it dropped from its peaks overlooking the sea. And in the center was the grand ride, the boardwalk’s main attraction: an enormous ferris wheel, blinking with rainbow neon lights.

 

Eight dragged her date down the street, ignoring all traffic safety laws and barreling right passed honking cars. “Look at that! And that! And that!” she cried, directing Three’s attention to everything she could lay her eyes on.

 

“Easy there, tiger,” Three laughed nervously. Maybe this is a little too overwhelming for Eight. “Let’s take it one at a time. Which one do you wanna go to first?”

 

Eight thought for a moment. “That one!” Her finger pointed towards some sort of long rectangular tower with a bell on top.

 

The duo approached the game, greeted by the narwhal carney's booming voice, “Step on up, just whack the launch pad with the roller to gauge your strength. Ring the bell and you win a prize!”

 

Made sense to Eight! The Octoling grabbed hold of the mini roller and, with all her might, swung it down onto the pad. A little puck soared up the tower, dwindled on the “Fresh” label, and unceremoniously fell back down to Earth.

 

“Not bad, not bad, but no cigar!” laughed the striped narwhal.

 

“Here, lemme try.” Three gently took the roller from Eight’s hands. Stepping forward, she sized up the tower, rolled out a kink in her shoulder and, with a deep breath, reeled back and felled the roller. The puck zipped up the tower and, with a resounding, victorious _DING_ , fell back to the pad, accompanied with flashing lights and ringing bells. 

 

“Congratulations!” smiled the carney, “You win a…” And out from behind the tower came a big plushie jelly.

 

Three cocked an eyebrow. All that for some cheap toy? But Eight’s reaction was quite the opposite, diving forward to hug the plush and profusely thanking the narwhal before turning to Three. “It’s it adorable?” she smiled, holding the thing up to her date as if it were her baby.

 

Three smiled back. “Sure is. Come on, let’s win some more.”

 

* * *

 

The two were unstoppable, taking down nearly every booth in their path. They had a bit of a routine down too. Eight would try her hand first and if failed, and with her permission, Three would either take over or give Eight a helping hand and win for her. “I spent a lot of time down here when I was a kid,” she would shrug, “so I know the ins and outs of these games.” 

 

The dualie booth was easy as pie. Three held Eight’s left hand steady as she pumped a steady stream of ink into two moving targets.

 

The chargeshot game was easy as well. Three knelt down behind Eight, holding her arms up, chest pressed against her back. Eight could hardly focus though, thankful her date was behind her so she couldn’t see her blush.

 

Besides carnival games, the two also delved into the sugary, deep-fried, and incredibly unhealthy cuisine of circus food. While Three refused to eat anything other than a hot dog due to her diet, Eight chowed down on every color of cotton candy, even though Three warned her she’d be puking rainbows later (a quick ride on the roller coaster would confirm Three’s words of caution). The Octoling passed on deep-fried caramel sugar, though; even she had enough common sense to know not to touch that stuff.

 

All in all, the date was going swimmingly, to Three’s joy. She was finally giving Eight the first-date experience she deserves.

 

* * *

 

“You just gotta keep your shoulders squared and fists in front. Puff up your chest a lil’ too.” Three instructed, passing the boxing gloves to Eight. The arcade was brimming with people, young and old, huddling around the machines and boxes and chattering about tickets and high scores.

 

Eight set aside her spoils of victory, slipped her hands into the gloves, and readied her stance, puffing up her chest and exaggerating Three’s instructions.

 

“Not that much, dummie,” Three chuckled. Eight smiled and held onto every note of that musical laughter. Such a rarity to hear those sounds come from Three.

 

“Alright, alright. Ready?” The screen flashed ‘BEGIN!’ and Eight wailed wildly at the punching bag. Once the timer ran out, she stood back, breathless and winded.

 

“Hey, not bad, you scored in the top fifty.” 

 

“But you’re in the top five! I gotta beat you.”

 

“Yeah, that’s not happening, lil’ missy,” Three patted Eight’s head, “ ‘specially seeing how you need me to help you with every game.”

 

“Nuh-uh! What about the brush game?”

 

“You only beat it because the brush is your main!”

 

“Well what about the splating-gun game? I totally beat you!”

 

“You did not, the carney only gave you the prize because he felt bad for you!”

 

Eight put her hand to her chest in feigned shock. “How dare you!”

 

“How dare you!?”

 

That’s when the two realized how close they had gotten in their mock-argument, only inches apart. After a pause, they bursted into laughter. But Three’s focus was interrupted when she felt Eight’s hands wander down her side and hook around her waist. 

 

“It’s not my fault you’re so amazing…” Eight gave a lopsided smile, nibbling on her bottom lip.

 

“Hey, right back at you,” Three crooned.

 

The Octoling looked up at her with flirty, expectant eyes.

 

 _Is this really happening? Ok, ok, stay calm, don’t freak out._ Three was already beginning to sweat. _First kiss, first kiss, first kiss._

 

But before the couple could lean in for a quick, discreet peck, a voice cut through the haze. “Stop it, stop it! A damned disgrace, you two!”

 

The Octoling and Inkling stopped dead in their tracks to turn towards an older Inkling, perhaps around the same age as Cap’n.

 

“Can I help you?” Three’s tone shifted a couple octaves down, her face dropping to a glare.

 

“You ingrate, forgetting who our sworn enemy is. It’s bad enough that they’re on the surface, but now we’re gonna have mixed Inklings and Octolings. It’s a damned internal invasion, injecting their kind into our society! And she’s in on it!” He shot a crooked finger at Eight, who shot back daggers through her eyes.

 

The couple slowly parted. “Back off, old timer,” Three spat, “We don’t want things to get ugly around here.”

 

“Oho! Daring to challenge a member of the original 2nd Splatoon! I’ve splatted more of you conniving, sneaky, slimy excuses of cephalopods than you could ever im–”

 

Three would not let him finish that sentence; not after seeing Eight’s expression crumple, each word like a stinging bullet. “You better apologize. Right now.” With a crack of her knuckles, the enormous inkling stepped towards the attacker and–

 

“Three...”

 

She looked back to see Eight’s hand on her arm, lips pursed, eyebrows furrowed, cheeks red, and eyes brimming with tears. The arcade had suddenly gone dead silent, other than cheerful chip-tune music and jingles. Once again, the burning sensation of eyes fell upon the couple. Younger inklings watched curiously, many with their phones out, ready to capture some old guy getting his ass beat. Adult inklings and other sea creatures looked on, some with worry, others with contempt and disapproval for such a disruption. And a couple Octolings stood idly by as well, their eyes down at their feet.

 

“Come on, let’s go. Just let it go, please…” Eight begged and tugged her partner towards the exit.

 

Three, her cheeks and ears burning with rage and humiliation, reluctantly swallowed her pride and felt its thick, molten-hot core roll down her throat, for the sake of Eight. “You watch your fuckin’ mouth, ‘cuz if I ever hear you talk about her like that again, I’ll bust you up so bad you’ll wish you got splatted in the war.”

 

A few gasps came from the crowd (accompanied by some dramatic _oooh_ ’s from the younger kids) at such a display of disrespect.

 

Three got one last good look at the old man before Eight dragged her out of the fray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got a lot angstier than I intended.


	4. Finale

Dusk was nearing its end. The distant honks and beeps of the city were shrouded by the crashing waves of the oncoming tide and the sounds of the boardwalk. But that excitement, that colorfulness found itself muted and quiet, darkening with the night sky.

 

Three and Eight stopped near the end of the boardwalk. Finally, they were alone together, lit by a few stray lamps, the blazing yet fleeting orange hues dipping into the ocean, and a single pale moon.

 

Three spoke first. “Eight. I’m… I’m really sorry about wh–”

 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Eight cut her off, her voice low. As she spoke, her clawed fingers dug into the railing; a nervous tick she’d picked up while in the underground.

 

And so Three fell silent, unsure of what to say, getting as close as possible to her friend as she could without arousing any discomfort.

 

“You… Do you…” Eight struggled to find the right words. “You don’t think this is… a mistake… do you?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Us, I mean. Is this really... right?”

 

“Oh Eight,” Three huffed in exasperation, “Don’t let that old geezer get in your head. Plus, your moms are just like us, Inkling and Octoling, and they’re great! Everyone loves them!”

 

“Not everyone…” muttered Eight, recalling all the drama she’s seen Marina and Pearl deal with.

 

“Well fuck ‘em!”

 

“Three, would you have imagined yourself dating an Octoling before you met me?” Eight had turned to face her, but her eyes were down at her feet.

 

Three scratched the back of her head nervously. Truth be told? Absolutely not. She was conditioned to see Octolings as the enemy of the people and nothing more than some bad guys she had the pleasure to take out. Behind those goggles, she saw no life, no desires, no dreams, no passion. Three was a child of war.

 

But of course, that all changed when she met Eight, a contradiction to the image she’d built around Octolings. Sweet, compassionate, curious, beautiful. It essentially turned her world upside down.

 

“No, to be honest, not at all.”

 

Eight furrowed her brow at Three’s inelegant answer.

 

“But so what? Things change, y’know? Look, you… like me, right? I mean, like-like me.”

 

Not exactly the way Three imagined their confessions to go, but her heart did a little jump when Eight nodded her head without hesitation.

 

“And I like you. So who cares how different we are or whether we were enemies or what other people think. I like you and you like me. That’s all that matters.” A gentle hand reached to tuck a stray tentacle behind Eight’s rounded ear.

 

“Plus…” Three snuck around behind Eight to wrap her arms around her waist and rested her chin on her shoulder, “you really think a couple of racist hags are gonna stop me from going on a date with the prettiest, cutest, kindest girl in Inkopolis? Trust me, if anyone talks shit like that again, I’ll knock their lights out.”

 

Eight let out a giggle and fidgeted against Three’s ticklish words, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Back to the Three I know, huh? Since when did you get so sappy? You used to be so grumpy and quiet, and now you’re like a professional motivational speaker!”

 

Three rolled her eyes, “I’m telling you, all your shitty romance movies are getting to my head. You really gonna make fun of me for making you feel better?” 

 

Eight shrugged. “Hey, I’m not complaining. As long as I get to hear you compliment me more!”

 

Three felt all that tension slowly uncoil. Eight was smiling again and that was all that mattered to her.

 

“Come on, we still got one ride to do.”

 

* * *

  


The bar slid down with a satisfying _ka-clunk!_ One they were safely locked to their seats, the two began to rise into the air, higher and higher. Eight looked over her side at the little people below, growing tinier and tinier as they left the Earth.

 

“You cold?” Three nudged her date, noting how much she was shivering.

 

“Nah, I’m good, really!”

 

Three wouldn’t hear any protests. Slipping out of her hoodie, she tucked it around Eight’s shoulders (cod, she really was getting influenced by Eight’s movies), tugging the hood down over Eight’s eyes with a playful smile.

 

“Noo, now you’re gonna get cold!”

 

“I’m fine, trust me!” Three reassured, leaning back and ignoring the biting breeze that pierced her thin tank-top.

 

The seat came to a stop at the very top of the wheel. A perfect split between heaven and Earth.

 

“Look, you can see our apartment from here,” Three pointed into the city, directing Eight’s gaze. Behind a large office building and a highway, Eight could barely make out their building. Their own little slice of this world.

 

“It all seems so small up here,” Eight sighed, before looking up and observing the opposite. The sky sure does seem bigger at the top of the world. Even now, its endless span dizied Eight, who had spent the vast majority of her life looking up and seeing a rock and dirt ceiling.

 

And the night sky especially dazzled Eight. Daytime was nice with its pretty blue hue and fluffy white clouds, but nighttime was magical; as if someone had sprinkled glitter and pixie dust into the inky blackness. During Eight’s first experience with night, she spent almost an hour reaching up, gauging how far away these stars were. But now, she actually felt like she could reach up and pluck one out of the sky.

 

Eight moved her hand to hold Three’s. But, unlike the subway, there were no squeezes of discomfort or thumb-rubs of solace. For the first time, the couple held hands purely for the enjoyment of each other’s warmth.

 

Three took it a step forward and hooked a muscly arm around her date’s shoulder. Eight followed suit by leaning her head against its perch.

 

“I can’t thank you enough,” she whispered, “for everything.”

 

“Hey, it’s what a girl like you deserves,” Three smiled.

 

The two faced each other once again, close enough to feel each other’s bated breaths. Three’s heart pounded; round two. Closer and closer, they bridged the gap once again, still just as slow and hesitant as before. Three could feel her stomach rising to her throat, colors and sounds intensifying around her until–

 

“Hope you had a good ride! Please watch your step as you exit the ferris wheel!”

 

Three and Eight pushed away from each other instantaneously, their skin aflame with frustration, impatience, and want.

 

Swing and a miss.

 

With a grumble, Three pushed up their bar and slid out of the seat with Eight in tow, wondering if the employee had seen what they were about to do.

 

“The exit is just that way. Have a good night!”

 

Enough was enough. Three turned at the bottom of the stairs and gestured out in the distance. “Hey, I think your co-worker’s calling you.”

 

And, as the employee searched for his nonexistent distraction, Three pulled Eight close. In that very moment, the laughter of children quieted, the chatter of attendees hushed. The rides slowed to a halt and the music skipped its beat and paused. In that very moment, the entire world came to a standstill; everyone, everything, everywhere holding its breath and freezing as if time itself had stopped. But no leery, wary, curious eyes were on Three and Eight. In that very moment, surrounded by the hundreds of guests, old and young, Inkling and Octoling, Three and Eight were utterly alone together. Alone together with Three’s long, mottled tentacles, brushing up against Eight’s leg, Eight’s golden-honey eyes, staring up at Three’s, and their beating hearts, fluttering like hummingbirds, as Three drew Eight close and kissed her.

 

Third time’s a charm.

  



End file.
